


Watch and Learn

by limitlessrose (shinealightrose)



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Kidfic, M/M, Mpreg, Workplace and Domestic au, Yuta is whipped, single dad doyoung
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-03
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:01:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22102219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shinealightrose/pseuds/limitlessrose
Summary: Yuta is a beta in an alpha and omega world. But then he meets single dad Doyoung with his two small kids, and maybe just maybe the whole world was meant to spin on its axis.
Relationships: Kim Dongyoung | Doyoung/Nakamoto Yuta
Comments: 80
Kudos: 651





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello hello, this is a short-chaptered thing I have been dying to write. Maybe only a couple chapters max. There shouldn't be a lot of angst, this is an exercise in matter-of-fact realism. More fun than anything else, and because I wanted to explore an A/B/O world like this without the necessity of a higher rating. Mind the mpreg. It's not explicit but it does exist.

Yuta meets Doyoung on the eve of his twenty-seventh birthday. Actually it’s a joint party his coworkers are throwing for him and Sicheng. He’ll find out later Doyoung is Sicheng’s old friend from university. 

Yuta stands in the entryway of Taeyong’s house with a wine glass up to lips when the front door comes crashing down and Doyoung arrives, grumpy as hell with a toddler between his legs and a baby carrier in one arm. His other arm is laden down with three giant bags. Diapers are raining down from at least one of them. The baby is already screaming.

“Taeyong! Can I use one of your guest rooms! The babysitter flaked on me last second. Hi, Sicheng. Happy early birthday or whenever it actually is. Take the kid, please? I’m pretty sure that diaper is about to explode and he wouldn’t let me change it before we got in the car. Hey, you there.”

Yuta gasps. “Me?” 

“Yeah, you. Are you sober right now?” 

Yuta’s wine glass wavers midair, barely touched. “Yeah?”

“Good. Take the baby and I don’t know, bounce him? I have two more bags in the car and the collapsible crib. I’ll be five minutes. _Don’t_ drop my baby!” And then he’s backing out the door with a resigned and exhausted, “ _I already did that earlier today._ ” 

The door closes and Sicheng gives him a courageous smile and a thumbs up. He’s already dragging the toddler off to the bathroom with one of the diaper bags in tow, which just leaves Yuta with a car seat, too many buckles, and a squawking baby whose face is so red and contorted with anguish Yuta doesn’t know how it can breathe. 

By the time he gets the little thing out of its seat and into his arms, Taeyong comes around the corner, and apparently he’s already halfway to smashed. Which means he’s probably had half a drink. His face is as red as the little one, and he shouts startled. 

“Doyoung was here! Oh man, it’s the baby! Doyoung never brings out the baby!”

Yuta has already started the process he thinks is _bouncing._ His arms are tense and he’s terrified he’s going to drop him. Yuta has never held a baby before. He thinks he must have absorbed something about babies just from osmosis. His sister has three of them. What are the rules here: don’t shake them, don’t drop them. He’s supposed to support their heads, right? Though the little thing is wailing so hard with his body practically rigid and inflexible and his head rears back like that’s the only way it goes. He’s started hiccuping in between shrieking and Yuta changes up his dance, bouncing side to side in a complicated little two-step while cooing and shushing the poor little dear like he imagines his mother would do.

Taeyong suddenly cackles. “What are you doing? You look ridiculous. Have you ever even held a baby?”

“No?” Yuta sobs. 

Why did Sicheng have to leave him alone? Wasn’t there someone else who could this job? Why is Doyoung even here at nine o’clock at a party with his two kids—oh right, something about a babysitter.

Has it been five minutes yet? Should he have sent someone else outside to help Doyoung, or better yet, passed off the baby and gone himself? 

Taeyong is still laughing at him though and Yuta is now positive the baby knows he’s being mocked. 

“Would you be quiet? I’ve almost got this here!” 

The baby, of course, takes this moment to get its breath, pause, take a great inhale and then… sneeze. 

For three golden seconds, he and the baby stare into each other’s eyes and Yuta feels his heart just melt away. The baby whimpers and his eyes flutter shut. He yawns, miraculously silent, and suddenly lays his head against Yuta’s chest. Yuta freezes. 

From screaming bloody murder to passed out, Yuta reassures himself the baby is still breathing. But he’s mainly in awe! Was it the two-step bounce, Yuta’s perfect baby arms, the warmth of his chest, his fuzzy sweater, karma, good vibes, or just the turn of the world? He stares down at that peaceful, sleeping thing. His heart squeezes and– oh no, Yuta is in love. 

Doyoung comes back in the door bearing not one but two collapsible cribs under each arm. He takes one look at Yuta and sighs. 

“Well, that’s just great. Did you have any plans for the rest of the evening? How would you like to sit in a dark room and hold him for the rest of the night?”

He follows Taeyong out of the room then leaving Yuta still standing in the entryway with the most beautiful little sleeping angel, not even guessing yet that Doyoung is serious. He catches the man in profile rounding the corner, handsome face lined with the obvious signs of stress and sleep deprivation. Yuta’s heart beats up again and for the second time tonight, he thinks, _oh no, this is love_. 

  
  
  


Yuta’s a beta in a world made for alphas and omegas. He thinks that’s great because he doesn’t spend half his life posturing against the other sex, and he has twice as many friends. _Unfortunately,_ he tends to get friend-zoned for that very reason. Ten years ago he imagined he’d be in a serious relationship at least, if not married. But his last partner was a year ago and things ended tragically amicable, leading Yuta to believe the guy just hadn’t been as committed. Before though he’d never had a relationship last longer than six months. He’s learned to take it in stride. For some people, it just doesn’t happen. 

And some people, like Doyoung, end up in a shitty relationship with the same douchebag, twice!

“Oh man, don’t ask him about the ex, whatever you do,” says Sicheng under his breath. He’s just returned from diaper duty and setting up the cribs. Doyoung is still in the room soothing his children to sleep. The rest of them have been lowkey gossiping ever since Doyoung plucked the baby from Yuta’s arms and disappeared. 

“Why, what happened with the ex?” Jungwoo’s like Yuta. He’s never met Doyoung before. 

Taeyong checks that he’s still out of earshot and whispers, “Absolute jerk of an alpha. He got him knocked up, then decided he wanted to play domestic and be a good dad. Then he decided he didn’t, so they broke up. Then he ‘repented’ and came back, just long enough to knock him up with kid no. 2. Acted like a bitch when he found out, and Doyoung dumped him for good.”

“Wow,” Yuta murmurs, impressed. A father of two isn’t an easy job for anybody, but a single omega on top of that. 

“So, he’s single and lives alone, two kids and all?” asks Jungwoo. Yuta unconsciously bristles at the blatant interest in the alpha’s voice. 

Sicheng snorts and shakes his head. He reads it too. 

“Wouldn’t try it, Woo, if I were you.” 

Doyoung comes back before he or Jungwoo or anyone else can ask why not. Taeyong makes room for him on the couch and offers him a beer but Doyoung waves it away. “Thanks, but I haven’t had a drink in a year. I’m good.”

Their birthday plans were kind of lame. Drinks and cake and maybe a movie. Yuta already tasted a stripe of the frosting with his finger, and Sicheng can’t decide on a movie. It’s a small crowd, round about eight people, but for Yuta that is plenty enough. He’s only been working this job for a year and is honestly surprised to have this many people from just his co-workers alone. Besides Taeyong their host, and Sicheng his fellow celebrant, there are Jungwoo and Jaehyun, Taeil, Kun, and now Doyoung. All of them know Sicheng, but Yuta’s never met Kun who apparently works on another floor. 

Jaehyun makes room for Doyoung to sit on the sofa. They’re both omegas and evidently good friends because Doyoung crumples halfway on top of his lap. 

“Long day?” ask Kun.

“You have _no_ idea,” says Doyoung.

“What happened with the babysitter?”

“Jeno? Ugh, I don’t even want to talk about it.” But plainly he does for he spends the next five minutes alternating praising his primary babysitter and cursing the poor teenager for developing a sudden cold and not telling Doyoung about it even though he had two days to warn him. There are sympathies for Doyoung all around and most make vague promises not to get too rowdy in case they wake the babies. 

“Sorry for bringing them,” Doyoung sighs, “but I just couldn’t fathom staying home for _one_ more night by myself.”

“Here, here,” says Taeyong, tipsy. “Let’s get some cake!”

  
  
  


Yuta _officially_ meets Doyoung while on his second piece of cake. 

“Sorry, I didn’t get your name earlier. I’m Doyoung.”

“Yuta.” He holds out his hand across his paper plate, disappointed when it takes Doyoung five seconds to decide he can touch Yuta’s hand. Their greeting is quick and swiftly completed. Doyoung nods, murmurs a rushed _thanks for earlier_ and moves on to talk to Sicheng. 

“Happy Birthday! Did I tell you that earlier?” 

Sicheng laughs. “You did, but it’s Yuta’s birthday first.”

“Oh, is it?” 

He doesn’t turn around, doesn’t congratulate Yuta on still being alive for one more year. Yuta is pouting before he even realizes it. He still can’t get over the feel of that baby in his arms. He felt like they bonded. Shame Doyoung doesn’t agree. 

Eventually, they pick a movie and then several of the guys go home. Yuta does a round about the house with Sicheng picking up the most obvious piles of trash and dishes. And by the time they escort Taeyong to his bed, their still tipsy host tripping over his feet with every step, Yuta’s already declared which couch is his. Screw trying to drive home. Sicheng bares him farewell and locks the front door behind him just as Yuta blacks out. 

  
  


He’s woken up far too early for a man in his late twenties who only went to bed half past two in the morning. There’s some shuffling in the kitchen, a thump like someone’s foot hitting the bottom of a counter, then the wild and shrill cry of a baby. 

Yuta sits straight up on the couch. “The fuck?!” He whispers, before… “Ohhh.” _Right._ Doyoung is also staying the night. 

He stays still for ten seconds contemplating going back to sleep, but the clock on Taeyong’s old DVD player says it’s barely _3:22 AM_ and there’s no way Yuta is falling back asleep with that sound echoing from the kitchen. He gets up yawning and pads toward the sounds of muttered curses. Doyoung is dangling the baby off one hip and struggling to get something out of the fridge. 

Yuta clears his throat. “Uhh, can I help with anything?”

Doyoung spins around in a panic. His face relaxes when he sees it’s just Yuta, plain old Yuta with his nonexistent pheromones and what he hopes is a comfortable aura. 

Doyoung stares for a moment and then swallows. “Sure, if you can.”

Under Doyoung’s direction, Yuta opens up a small case containing baby bottles and closes the fridge.

“What do I do now?” He whispers, in an ever useless endeavor for the baby is starting to cry harder and harder. 

“Heat it up,” says Doyoung. Yuta stares at the microwave. “Not there!” he hisses. “There!”

Yuta has to scratch his head because the _there_ Doyoung is pointing at is a Keurig. It takes some seconds to figure out how this works, but under Doyoung’s direction he places the bottle under the machine in an empty mug, still in a panic he’s going to mess something up, either the Keurig or the baby’s precious formula. Eventually, though Doyoung is sighing in relief, the milk bottle swimming in a cupful of hot water and Yuta is feeling mighty handy, if he can be allowed to boast. 

“What’s his name?” He points to the child Doyoung is desperately trying to keep distracted. 

“Guanheng,” Doyoung says with a sigh. “Dejun is my older kid. He’s sleeping right now, _fortunately_.” 

Chinese names, Yuta thinks. He wonders about the dad, the ‘douchebag alpha’ he’s not allowed to mention. Doyoung doesn’t add anything though so Yuta says, “He’s cute,” nodding at Guanheng with his little lips wrapped around the tip of the bottle. 

Doyoung chuckles. “Yeah, most of the time he is.”

“Let me guess,” says Yuta. “Whenever he’s not crying?”

“Or eating my cell.”

Yuta laughs, smiling, a little pleased at how Doyoung seems to be perfectly comfortable around him now. It’s the beta in him, he supposes. Omegas love him, even if they don’t, you know _love_ him. 

“I didn’t say Happy Birthday to you earlier. I’m sorry.”

Yuta shrugs. 

Doyoung doesn’t look entirely remorseful, but Yuta doesn’t mind. He spends a moment covertly watching the deep shadows under Doyoung’s eyes dance in the even dimmer kitchen light. 

“Birthdays aren’t really a big deal for me, ya know?” he suggests, to make Doyoung feel better. 

“Well, anyway.” 

Doyoung doesn’t finish whatever thought he had. He looks so tired. Yuta wants to _do_ something. He just doesn’t know what. Should he offer to hold the baby, that seemed to work last time? He’s sure he’s no good at feeding a baby. And besides, Guanheng is looking pretty comfortable in his daddy’s arms. 

“Will he go back to sleep?” he asks. 

Doyoung frowns. “Maybe. Guess we’ll see.”

“Hmm. Yeah,” says Yuta uselessly. 

He stands against the kitchen counter in silence, forgetting if he had a reason to come in here besides curiosity and hearing Doyoung moving around. Doyoung doesn’t seem to mind him though. He cradles the baby in his arms until the bottle goes dry, then shifts Guanheng over his shoulder. The little boy sniffles and turns his head toward Yuta, a neutral milk-drunk look to his face. Something inside Yuta squirms to hold him again. 

He doesn’t have to ask. 

Doyoung, squirming a little himself, sighs deeply and says, “Would you mind holding him? I’ve gotta pee _so_ bad.” 

Not even the slightest bit embarrassed over his admission, Doyoung puts the baby in Yuta’s arms and scurries away. 

And ahh, yes. Yuta is happy again. Guanheng doesn’t make a sound, just rubs his face over the front of Yuta’s shirt. Awkwardly, he tries patting him on the back, a poor imitation of his sister when she’s waiting on a burp. 

It happens though. Guanheng’s tiny body bubbles once in his arms, a loud hiccup escaping his mouth, then he settles back happily against Yuta’s chest. 

Seconds turn to minutes, then another minute. Yuta’s arms, not used to the weight of an immobile infant, begin to droop. With no sign of Doyoung, he returns to the couch and oh so gently sits himself down. The baby doesn’t move. His eyes are closed. Yuta leans his head back and gets comfortable, not sure if this is alright but pleasantly happy all the same. 

Vaguely, he hears Doyoung’s soft footsteps return. Then, a huff, followed by a sigh. The couch shifts next to Yuta as Doyoung sits beside him, a good half cushion between their bodies. Yuta looks at him. 

“I got tired,” he whispers, a smile tugging at his lips. 

Doyoung just smirks, says nothing. 

Guanheng is firmly asleep in his arms. 

The silence between them, between the _three_ of them, is nice. It’s just, really nice. 

  
  
  
  


The following morning is anything _but_ nice.

Yuta doesn’t even know what’s going on when he wakes up, but the baby isn’t on his lap anymore. Instead, there’s a screaming toddler bouncing on his chest, Taeyong laughing somewhere off in the distance, and Doyoung screech-whispering, “Dejun! Dejun, no! Dejun, stop! Come. Here!” 

Something hits Yuta’s chest like the wind getting beaten out of him. He panics, eyes aghast, and then the weight is gone. Little feet scurrying out of the room accompanied by another maniacal scream. Doyoung comes running, Guanheng wide-eyed on his hip. 

“I’m so sorry! Are you okay?”

He’s off again before Yuta can answer. 

Yuta counts to ten very, very slowly. He might even doze during that time, but everything is so hazy. He’s trying to piece together what happened between his last memory and this one, vaguely remembering how he and Doyoung sat together a long time on the couch, a sleeping baby clinging to his chest. 

Somewhere before dawn, he remembers Guanheng stirring, and Doyoung plucking him off, disappearing down the hall, and Yuta, feeling empty, hunkering down alone on the couch. He must have slept. 

He wishes he still slept. 

Somehow, he gets himself off the couch, dragging his lazy muscles down the hall to the bathroom. There’s a nice, tingly feeling running throughout his body. Yuta doesn’t know what that is. The last time he felt it was during his longest relationship: six months and _two_ whole days. Surely it can’t be just because of Doyoung himself. Sure, Yuta likes omegas, but he’s known Taeyong longer than Doyoung obviously and there’s nothing about Taeyong’s omega that makes him feel this way. 

So maybe it’s the baby?

Taeyong and Doyoung are talking softly in the kitchen when Yuta comes out. He doesn’t mean to listen in, but he stops by the couch to fold the blankets there, just slightly out of view from the dining room table. And maybe he takes a bit longer than necessary when he hears his name. 

“You slept okay?” Taeyong is asking. “Just wanted to be sure, because I know you hadn’t met Yuta before last night.”

“Yuta? He’s fine.”

Taeyong hums. “Yeah, I mean he’s just a beta. But I know you’ve gotten finicky about them in the past too.”

Doyoung snorts. “After everything I’ve been through? Believe me, betas are no problem anymore. And way better than strange alphas. Although, I don’t even care about _them_ anymore.”

Yuta wants to take offense to that, but he knows how to respect an omega’s space. Most omegas won’t share a house with betas or alphas, let alone sit on a couch alone with one where no one else is present. 

Taeyong is laughing. “Didn’t you say you went on a couple of dates last month? Alpha or beta?”

“One of each. They were terrible.”

Yuta can’t take it anymore. He clears his throat loud and clear, wanting to warn Doyoung that anything he says will be overheard by him, a stranger, before stepping into the kitchen. To his surprise, Doyoung doesn’t even flinch. The toddler in charge of waking up Yuta, Dejun, is hiding between his dad’s legs. Yuta smiles at him. The toddler doesn’t smile back. 

“They were both just so… nervous.” Doyoung laughs, shifting Guanheng to the other hip while he sips from a cup a coffee with his free hand. Guanheng, unlike his brother, gives Yuta an assessing look before leaning out of his dad’s arms. 

“Apparently the only thing scarier than approaching an omega with an alpha mate, is approaching an omega with two babies,” says Doyoung, casually sliding Guanheng into Yuta’s waiting arms. “Thanks,” he adds, before giving full attention to his coffee.

Taeyong’s eyes slide between the two of them. Yuta doesn’t care what he thinks. He’s got his baby back, and maybe it’s the infant pheromones but he swears he can feel himself melting. Guanheng is a silent presence against his chest, and maybe, emboldened by his brother’s success, Dejun finally steps out from behind Doyoung’s legs. Yuta watches him with one eye, pretending not to notice the child reaching across the gap and… poking his knee. 

Yuta winks at him. Dejun frowns, but he doesn’t run away, just casually retreats to the safety of his dad’s shadow and keeps an eye on Yuta the rest of the morning. 

And the rest of the morning consists a lot of Yuta holding the baby and Doyoung ignoring him. Yuta almost doesn’t mind. Taeyong prepares them a small breakfast which Doyoung eats with Dejun on his lap, and Yuta barely gets any of it at all. He’s too busy cooing and playing with Guanheng that’s it a shock when Doyoung suddenly gets up and declares his intention to pack his and his kids’ things so they can get on home. 

It’s with a heavy heart that Yuta relinquishes Guanheng at all, and only at the last minute because Doyoung spends the rest of the time chasing Dejun around trying to get his shoes on. 

The door closes on them finally and…. Yuta grieves. Expressionlessly. 

He looks at Taeyong. Taeyong looks at him. 

Doyoung had barely even whispered goodbye. 

“Cheer up, Yuta.”

“Cheer up, what?” he echoes sadly. 

“You’ll have them someday.”

Yuta’s brain goes into overdrive mode. “What? Have… them?” He’s obviously thinking of Doyoung and his two babies. 

But then Taeyong says, “Kids. You’ll have them someday.”

And oh, he just means ‘kids’ in general. Kids, as in some other kids. Someone else’s kids. _His_ kids, but with someone else. That’s… that’s not what comforts Yuta at all. 

  
  
  


Yuta has never been much of a baby person. Part of that comes from never being in a relationship long enough to consider settling down. There’s also the weird part that comes from biology. It’s an alpha and omega kind of world. Alphas sire, omegas bear. Betas can technically do both but it’s difficult. Very difficult. Like, lots of clinic visits followed by hormone stimulators or fertility drugs. It still happens for plenty of betas though. Yuta’s known quite a few who have gone through the treatments and had lots of happy, bubbly, bouncing babies. His own parents for one example. They’re both betas and quite happy with each other. They bore two beta kids, and Yuta’s sister has also been successful with the treatment. Granted, she’s married to an alpha and that obviously helps. 

But for Yuta, well he’s just never really considered it. He likes his sister’s kids because they’re cute, but he can’t say he’s really _bonded_ with his little nieces and nephew. 

He and Taeyong have talked about it before. Because Taeyong wants kids someday. Not Yuta though. He’s never desired them beyond a vague _maybe_ that floats around in his head whenever somebody brings up the topic and that’s it. 

Until today. 

Yuta goes home and it’s the last day of the weekend so technically he’s got nothing to do except relax and maybe watch some shows, play a game, and enjoy what is actually his birthday, just celebrated a day early. 

Instead, it’s eight in the evening with the sun gone dark before Yuta realizes what he’s done. His apartment is spotless, floors swept, rugs vacuumed, counters sparkling, moved some furniture around, and he’s even washed a few blankets and thrown them over the couch for comfort when suddenly… he’s spent the whole day... nesting. 

With an empty nest. 

  
  
  
  


“What do you know about Doyoung?”

Sicheng, over the break room counter, gives him a fixating stare. “Why? Do you like him?”

“I… didn’t say that. I was just curious.”

Sicheng hums, his eyes a piercing kind of knowing. “I’m sure you already heard the basics. He’s single and has two kids.”

“Okay, but like. How did you meet?”

Shrugging, he says, “I dated his roommate when we were in college so we became friends kinda through that. The roommate eventually dumped me, but somehow Doyoung and I managed to stay in touch. He was already dating that jerk by then. I think instinctively, he wanted another alpha around. Maybe to protect him.”

Yuta winces. “Was he that bad?”

“Not in the violent kind of way. But he was very overbearing, controlling. You know the type.”

Yeah, Yuta knows the type. He hates—hates hates _hates_ _—_ that Doyoung had to get with a guy like that. 

“But these days, he’s okay?”

“Pretty much,” says Sicheng. “I mean, what he went through I wouldn’t wish on _anybody._ But he came out mostly intact. It’s been over a year since he dumped that guy. Never even showed him the baby.”

“Guanheng?” 

“Yeah. Baby seems pretty fine though, don’t you think? And Dejun is a good kid. _Wild_ , but good.” 

Yuta doesn’t say anything for a moment, but he registers this look on Sicheng’s face he’s not ready to acknowledge when talking about Doyoung’s kids. 

“Doyoung’s doing okay though?” he asks. “He works upstairs, right?”

“Yep.” Sicheng doesn’t elaborate, just smiles in a way that makes Yuta frustrated. Yuta shoves down this crazy instinct to growl, but Sicheng is an alpha and Yuta’s friend and he’d never do that… never. Not for an omega with whom he has zero ties. 

  
  
  
  


And so, life goes on. 

Yuta goes home each day and messes a little more with the layout of his apartment, rearranging the table and even his bed and the junk in the spare room, part of which he starts to organize. At work, he does his job and jokes with his co-workers and he doesn’t ask about Doyoung or his kids. But he does think about them. 

Thinking about Doyoung is something else. Dare Yuta think, magical? 

Because there comes a day two weeks from the time they met where Yuta is minding his own business heading out of the building when the elevator he’s waiting for opens up to reveal, exactly Doyoung _and_ his two kids. 

Yuta is so shocked the door begins to close before he jerks out of his funk and steps inside. 

“Doyoung? Hi?”

The omega is looking _stressed_ as hell. He’s still in his work clothes but there’s a giant diaper bag falling off his shoulders, Guanheng slipping out of the other arm and Dejun steadily whining as he pulls on Doyoung’s jacket pocket crying something about “snack I want a snack. Daddy, snack. I need a snack.”

Yuta instantly reaches for the falling baby and Doyoung’s only acknowledgment is to sigh in thanksgiving. 

“It’s Yuta, right? I’m sorry I never got your last name.”

“Nakamoto. Nakamoto Yuta. Hey, are you okay?”

Doyoung looks dead, but even then he somehow manages to sound professional. Like Yuta is less of a friend, just a co-worker he met once at a party for a few random hours. 

“Me? I’m… I don’t know. There was a round of flu at the kids' daycare yesterday and my boss said it would be okay to bring them with me for part of the day but.”

“They’re exhausting, yeah? Cute but exhausting?”

Guanheng certainly looks like he’s had a rough day. His little lips are trembling but he stares up at Yuta’s face like Yuta is a bloody savior. 

“That’s the description,” Doyoung agrees. With Dejun’s steady rant for ‘snacks’ he starts fiddling with the diaper bag just as the elevator opens to the ground floor. “I stayed home this morning but that definitely wasn’t going to work all day.”

“So you brought them with you.”

“Yeah. I think Kun got the worst of it though. Hot coffee, all over his jacket coat.” He leans down to glare at Dejun, who must still be remembering _that_ scolding. 

Yuta laughs. They’re stepping out of the elevator and waltzing toward the garage together like this is something that happens every day. Dejun stops out of nowhere, fussing over the wrapper of his granola bar, and Yuta stops too, Doyoung continuing on toward the car until he realizes he’s alone. 

Yuta smiles sheepishly. Doyoung smiles back, grateful. Guanheng gurgles once on his chest and for just this second, the world spins on his axis and Yuta is _home_.

Unfortunately, Doyoung must not agree. He walks back, adjusting the diaper bag on his shoulder, and takes Guanheng from Yuta’s arms. 

“Thanks. My car is just over there. Come on, Dejun. Hurry up. Daddy’s tired.” 

Yuta follows them anyway. “I can help you get them in the car.”

Doyoung laughs. “You ever worked with car seats before?”

“Uhm. No?”

“Really? Well then, watch and learn.”

And Yuta doesn’t waste a second.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heeey I'm finally back. ! Hope you enjoy the chapter, give me a comment if you do! All critical assessment with how I portray toddlers should be taken up with... my toddler. Thanks in advance. !

God, Doyoung is just so _tired!_

The traffic is half blurred in front of him, the freeway clogged with lines and lines of cars. It’s seven in the morning and Doyoung is grateful for the leeway his boss has given him, letting him get to work an hour later than normal, but damnit he’s still just so _tired!_

Guanheng spent the whole night being fussy, which is somewhat normal but last night he was just a little… more fussier than usual? The life of a six-month-old, he guesses. It’s not like anyone actually knows what makes a baby tick. Least of all their god-damned parent. 

Doyoung grumbles, grumbling some more, half-listening to Dejun sing a butchered version of the ABCs from his car seat.

“Mooove it, will you!” he yells at the car in front of him which is taking an insane amount of time to decide if it wants to cut in front of Doyoung or not. 

“Mooooove it!” cries Dejun, suddenly high pitched and dramatic. 

Doyoung wants to beat his head against the steering wheel. “Seriously, kid? Oh, fuck it,” he says, finally determining to speed up and not let the indecisive merging car cut in front of him after all. 

The ABC song resumes shortly thereafter, and Doyoung ponders on every decision which has lead him to right now, right this second, two fussy kids, a flu-ridden daycare, this trip to his moms who has agreed to watch them today so he can actually get some work done, which you know, is required if he wants to feed and clothe and house his kids and still have something left over to spend on overpriced coffee. He thinks about Kun and his guilt over Kun’s soiled jacket from yesterday, Dejun’s childlike guilt, genuine and then gone in a flash. He thinks about Sicheng laughing as he bounces a crying Guanheng over his desk for a grand total of ten seconds. Yuta in the elevator and learning eagerly how to strap in the car seats, Guanheng crying after he leaves, and how all of that made Doyoung feel. 

“Q-R-S…” sings Dejun, his song winding down to an almost whisper as he yawns, Doyoung watching him through the rear-view mirror. “T-U- *yawns* - W-X- Y and *yawns*” 

For five lovely seconds, Doyoung’s whole shitty past doesn’t seem so shitty. He has good friends and wonderful babies. Dejun will be three years old soon, and if that isn’t a miracle he doesn’t know what is. Screw that alpha ex of his, Doyoung is never getting involved with a bastard like that again. If he does get involved with anybody, it would be somebody… somebody like…

“W-X- Y and Z,” sings Dejun again, suddenly re-energized, his voice pitching higher but softer as he ends off his song with a faint exclamation. “Fuck it.” 

And yeah, never mind. Doyoung still wants to die, thank you very much. 

  
  
  


“I heard someone saw you and Yuta going out together yesterday.” 

Doyoung fixates Ten with a tired, exasperated stare. The beta is the third person today so far to mention this stupid, completely benign fact, and it’s starting to grate on Doyoung’s nerves.. 

“And?”

Ten shrugs and pretends to look nonchalant. Which, because this is Ten, is a grand failure. Doyoung wouldn’t say he and Ten get along, but they work in the same hall and they don’t necessarily _don’t_ get along. No way they’ll ever be best friends, but Ten is a beta and Doyoung has always felt comfortable around betas. Enough to tolerate even the impertinent ones like Ten. 

“Just. I didn’t know you guys knew each other.”

“Do _you_ know each other?” 

“Yuta? Just, by name I guess.”

“Ah, and here I thought you must be asking because this was relevant to you.”

“Ouch,” says Ten, looking wounded. He’s not. Doyoung knows from experience that nothing can wound Ten. Not even aggressive alphas who don’t know their place. No one talks back to Ten if he doesn’t want to be so addressed. 

For some reason though he lets Doyoung do it. Okay, so maybe they are friends after all. 

“He seems to get along pretty well with your kids.”

Doyoung’s about to say another _And?_ But something makes him say otherwise. “Yeah. Kinda.”

“Kinda?” Ten’s eyebrows go up. His arms cross over his chest as he stares Doyoung up and down. “Kinda?! I watched Sicheng trying to console that baby for half a fucking hour to no success and here you are just throwing Guanheng into some guy’s arms and… he’s fine?”

Doyoung wants to answer but then it occurs to him. “Hang on. You said you just _heard_ somebody saw us walking together. Sounds to me like you’re the one spreading these rumors.” Ten does not deny it. Doyoung goes on. “Uh huh. That’s what I thought. And it was not for half an hour. Sicheng spent a whole two seconds trying to hold him before he gave up and almost dropped him. My brother-in-law is the least baby friendly person I know and even he does a better job trying to console a kid.”

“Taeil’s an omega. Of course he’s going to be better with kids than an alpha. You’re just trying to slander Sicheng, aren’t you, don’t deny it. Come on, come on now. I’ll fight for you for that. Justice for Sicheng!” he yells, arms up like he’s ready to box, and only three people in the hall even bother to look up. 

Doyoung just scoffs. “Seems we’re both into slander today.”

Ten’s arms drop. “That’s right. We were talking about you and Yuta.”

“We weren’t talking about anything. Will you scram? I have work to make up for what I didn’t accomplish yesterday.”

“Fine.”

“Fine,” Doyoung mimics. 

“Good.”

“Bye.”

“Bye, daddy.”

“I said, scram!”

  
  
  


To be honest, it’s not exactly Ten’s fault, but Doyoung has trouble concentrating on the rest of the day. Something about the forms on his computer screen keep blurring, Doyoung’s eyes growing heavier and heavier. He has to physically hide his cell phone from himself just to keep from texting his mom more times than necessary, wondering if his kids are alright. 

He takes it out at lunchtime to a queue of spam pictures. Guanheng with carrot mash all over his face and hands. Dejun with his sleeves soaked up to his elbows in soapy water, standing on a chair at the kitchen sink, a pile of ‘clean’ dishes behind him and the most self-satisfied smile on his face. 

“You coming, Doyoung?” Kun raps his knuckles on the edge of his cubicle. 

Doyoung looks up, hiding his phone away as if it were something incriminating. Kun only smiles. 

“Yeah, give me a sec.”

There’s a cantina on the basement floor of their building. It houses a few different stalls, options for the lazy but picky office worker. Healthier than fast food, and it’s cheaper than going out to a restaurant. Whenever Doyoung doesn’t have enough energy to pack himself a lunch--let’s face is, that’s almost every day--he eats down here to save a buck. 

Kun shouldn’t have to eat in the cantina. He has a larger salary and no one to spend it on, but he’s a good enough friend to accompany Doyoung most days. If they hadn’t had a discussion months ago about _why_ and what were his intentions, Doyoung would be nervous the alpha was somehow trying to court him. Any alpha Doyoung lets hang around him better be here for his scintillating conversation, and _nothing more._

“I invited some friends to join us. Do you mind?”

There’s something about the way Kuns scans the menu above their favorite gourmet sandwich stall that has Doyoung pinching his lips. First Ten, then Sicheng suspiciously dropping by to ask where his favorite babies were today. Now Kun. If Doyoung didn’t know any better, he’d assume the whole office has a fixation on Doyoung and a certain beta from downstairs. 

To his chagrin, he finds he doesn’t mind this possibility. 

Yuta isn’t exactly easy to pick out from a crowd. Doyoung smells Taeyong first. It’s a familiar and cozy. Then Jaehyun, the omega with a sweet and pleasant aroma. One of Doyoung’s favorites. But there’s also a whiff of alpha spice and Doyoung wrinkles his nose when Johnny comes into view. But for Yuta, it’s his voice Doyoung picks up first. Yuta has a soft, ringing laughter and a blinding smile as he looks at Taeyong. It doesn’t dim in the least when he turns his head and sees Doyoung waiting beside Kun, though perhaps Yuta’s reaction to Kun isn’t as bright. 

“Hey, y’all made it!” 

Kun fistbumps Johnny amiably in the way only two alphas who have been friends a long time can be. 

“Yeah. I mean Taeyong was dallying at his desk _forever_ , but...” Johnny complains with a smile, “You haven’t ordered yet?” 

“No. What are you guys going to have?”

The group splits up momentarily. Taeyong and Jaehyun disappear into another line for pizza, but Yuta and Johnny stay with them. Johnny insists they can cut in line after Doyoung. Yuta attempts to drag him to the back. Johnny wins, and Doyoung doesn’t complain, but he can say he likes Yuta more and more. Especially with the way the beta so eagerly captivates his attention by asking about his kids. 

“I guess you didn’t bring them today?”

“No,” says Doyoung. “At my mom’s.”

“Oh yeah? Do they like it there?” 

“They like it ok. I… she sent me some pictures earlier. Do you want to see?”

Doyoung isn’t sure what inspires him to make that suggestion, but when Yuta lights up, fingers trailing over Doyoung’s picture app like it’s sacred, it does seem as if it’s going well. And neither Johnny nor Kun is paying them attention. Or if they are, they’re doing a damned good job pretending otherwise. 

“There’s Guanheng,” Doyoung says over the obvious picture of his baby all covered in carrot. “Glad I don’t have to clean up that mess today.”

Yuta just coos. “Aww, it’s not that bad.”

“You might think differently if you had to do that every day, ten times a day.”

Yuta shakes his head. “Nah, it’s still cute. Where’s Dejun?”

Doyoung helps him scroll to the right a few pictures, then back left another ten swipes to some cute ones he took a week ago when Dejun was playing at the park. The endless series of angles and blurry photos occupy Yuta until they reach the front of the line. He hands the phone back to Doyoung while he orders and Doyoung tries to spy his face for any signs that he’s being _that_ kind of oversharing parent right now. Easy for him to fawn over a hundred weekly pictures of his babies, but most other people--his mom not included--tend to look out of politeness, and only that. 

But when they’re seated at a large table and Taeyong and Jaehyun have joined them, Yuta turns back to Doyoung again. 

“Are there more? Do you have any of when Dejun was a baby? Did he look just like Guanheng?”

“Ahh, I think I can find you some more.”

Doyoung scrolls back endlessly in his phone until he finds what he supposes is a good batch for Yuta to sift through. He hands him the phone, picks at his lunch wordlessly, one ear on the conversation around him, one eye shamelessly checking Yuta’s expression whenever he stops on another heart-rendering baby pic.

“He’s so cute!”

Yuta’s monologue is a steady stream of adoration. 

“The cutest!” 

“Gahh, look at that…”

And finally, a sound quite a bit different from the others. “Ohh.” 

Yuta puts down the phone suddenly and Doyoung gets a split-second image of himself on the screen before Yuta locks it and passes it back, a sheepish grin on his face and definitely the traces of reddened cheeks. 

Doyoung forgets that occasionally… just occasionally… when he’s feeling good-looking, he’ll take selfies of himself. And that one, taken over a year ago, had featured him half-naked and shirtless in front of the mirror making a kissy face, for which he’d sent to Taeyong just to be annoying. 

Feeling less embarrassed than he should be, Doyoung is rather pleased. He hums as he pockets his phone once more, answers a question from Kun about the start time for this afternoon’s meeting, and waves an all-encompassing smile around the table, which includes Yuta. 

“I think I’m going to head back upstairs.”

“Already?” asks Taeyong.

“Yeah. Need to call my mom before lunch is over. Check in with the babies.”

He says goodbye to everyone, noting that Yuta is suddenly less forward with his farewell than he was upon greeting. His eyes don’t exactly meet Doyoung’s, but it’s nothing that makes him upset. 

Doyoung likes a shy beta as much as he likes a happy one. It’s just that right now, priorities await. 

  
  
  
  
  


Doyoung returns home six hours later to a dark, unwelcoming house. One day he’s going to remember to leave a light on before he leaves in the morning, but that day hasn’t come. Mornings are reserved for chaos and last minutes diapers, lost shoes, tears and more tears as he rushes himself and his kids out the door to daycare or wherever they’re going to that day. Maybe he should get a dog. Or a cat. That way someone will be happy whenever Doyoung gets home in the evening. 

Guanheng is almost asleep in his arms, worn out and overstimulated from an entire day at grandma’s house. Dejun is yawning but still determined he’s going to play with toys, regardless of what daddy says. 

“I build my train tracks now, daddy.”

“It’s late. It’s almost bedtime. You need pajamas. Did you eat enough at grandma’s? Do you want a snack? Let’s go brush your teeth.”

“I want milk.”

Doyoung slips off his shoes as he rambles. In a perfect world, there’d be two parents to do this job. Doyoung doesn’t miss his ex, not even close. But bedtime is a thing of nightmares. It’s a mental dance as he decides which kid to take care of first, what needs to happen next. And it’s so late and Doyoung is already so tired, he’s never ready for the seemingly random but inevitable meltdown either from Guanheng who just doesn’t want his diaper changed tonight, or Dejun if he develops a sudden fixation. Tonight, for example, he throws off his shoes with a surge of energy and the only way to drain it is to apparently bounce on the couch, off the couch, on to the floor, then back onto the couch, rinse and repeat. Trains tracks and milk are already forgotten. 

It takes an hour to do what should technically take twenty minutes, but finally, he’s ready to throw the kids in bed. Literally. 

“We sing songs now, daddy?”

Doyoung yawns. His eyelids are so heavy. His throat is sore. He knows by now he’ll barely be able to hold a tune, but Guanheng is squirming in his arms and Dejun has a particular song order at least six songs long. Nothing less will work, else bedtime has to be rewound and started all over again. 

“Yes, we’ll sing songs now. What would you like to sing first?”

And thus, the evening eventually ends. 

Years ago, Doyoung used to be a night owl, a veritable insomniac, at his most productive at three in the morning. 

These days, he’s asleep within minutes at barely half-past nine. 

  
  


“Daddy, do we have to go to grandma’s today?” asks Dejun the following morning.

“Yes, honey, you do.”

“But I don’t want to go to grandma’s.”

“Well that’s an interesting opinion to have.”

Doyoung looks over the baby in his high chair making a mess with the apple sauce, at the half-eaten piece of toast with jam on Dejun’s plate. He’s already anticipating getting to eat it when Dejun decides he’s full in 3-2-

“I’m full, daddy. Can we go to work with you instead?” 

“No, sweetie, you can’t go to work with me today.”

“But I _want_ to go to work!”

“Uh huh.”

“Daddy, can we go to Yuta’s today?”

Doyoung’s stolen slice of half-eaten toast suddenly hits the floor. “What?” 

Dejun is already hopping off the chair and fleeing the kitchen, squealing, “I want to see Yuta! I want to see Yuta!” 

“What?” Doyoung says again, genuinely confused. “You remember who Yuta is?”

Guanheng suddenly squawks in anger when Doyoung takes five steps away to chase down Dejun and he has to go back and scoop him out of the high chair, just to catch his toddler. 

“He put me into the car last night.”

“Last night? You mean the other day?”

“Yeah! He smelled nice. Daddy, I don’t want to go to grandma’s today.”

“Well, that’s too bad because we’re going.”

“Noooooooooo!!!!” 

Doyoung stares at the toddler flinging himself at the floor with a strange detachment.

Oh, the war is _on._


	3. Chapter 3

Yuta is sweating slightly by the time he reaches the destined coffee shop. He’s half an hour early, and that can only be because he’s panicked over what’s about to happen and if there’s anything that makes Yuta comfortable, it’s getting to scout a location before anything takes place. Perhaps that’s what makes him such a good beta, a trick of evolution when his kind were used as scouts, the go-between between alphas and omegas. 

Yuta picks out a good table near the back of the shop where he can see everything including the front door. He checks his watch once, twice, then changes his seating. This table is a little bigger than the one in the corner. He can still see everything and everyone and is a little closer to the door. 

_Sorry running a little late, be there in 15?_

If someone had told him a week ago that, today, Yuta would be meeting Doyoung on _date_ , he’d have laughed in their face, then gone home to cry. It’s still a little too surreal for him to believe. Maybe it isn’t real at all. After all, Doyoung hadn’t used the word ‘date’ when they bumped into each other yesterday on their way to the garage. Yuta believes the phrase went a little like: 

Hey do you want to meet up this weekend? Maybe tomorrow? Get some coffee.

And Yuta, like the confused beta he was, had mumbled some words he doesn’t even remember now. 

Either way, the conclusion had been a time and a meeting place, and Yuta guesses Doyoung will be bringing his kids but he isn’t positive about that. Asking the omega would have been a simple thing, but truthfully Yuta doesn’t want to be disappointed if they don’t come. Even if he’d be fine meeting with just Doyoung. 

Or, _maybe_ he’d be fine with Doyoung. 

So he never asked, and now he wipes his brow in another gesture of nervous anticipation, checking out the playground across the street in case that’s what Doyoung had in mind. 

Right on the dot -- truthfully, Doyoung is about four minutes later than his fifteen minute delay -- Yuta sees them. Doyoung is half a block away looking haggard and stressed as usual, pushing a collapsible stroller weighed down by the ginormous diaper bag. Guanheng looks sound asleep, all plump and strapped into his seat. In Doyoung’s hand, Dejun skips delightedly. Yuta watches as the toddler stops, points toward the playground in obvious fascination, and Doyoung can’t help but to stop as well. His smile is genuine, sharing in his son’s excitement as he mumbles something Yuta guesses is _Soon._

Yuta stands up, like an idiot, when they come through the door. He hurries toward Doyoung. “Hey, you made it.”

Then cringes. _Obviously_ , they made it. They’re here aren’t they? 

“Yeah. Sorry about that. I put pants on Dejun, and then he had a fit because they had _drawstrings_ of all things, and we had to change them.”

Yuta suspects things were a little more dramatic than that, but he kindly doesn’t bring it up. Instead, he untangles the diaper bag from the bogged down stroller, hefts it over his shoulder and murmurs cheerfully, “Over here. I got a table. Hey, what do you want? I’ll order for everyone if you just want to sit.”

“Thanks,” says Doyoung, sounding more grateful than he has any right to be. All Yuta’s done is carry the damned bag. Doyoung sinks into the chair, drawing Dejun into his lap. The stroller with the still sleeping baby is tucked halfway under the table. Haphazardly he tells Yuta what he’s _dying_ to have. Also, what the kids will deign to eat. 

Yuta makes a note of it. “Be right back!”

Five minutes later Yuta sets down two coffees between them, a carton of milk of Dejun, two muffins, and a pile of napkins he suspects will be handy. 

“Did you walk here?” he asks. 

Now that the immediate tasks have been completed, Yuta struggles to sustain the conversation. Doyoung looks so _tired_. 

“No,” says Doyoung, shaking his head. “The car is parked… oh somewhere. A few blocks away.” 

“That’s cool. How’s the day going?”

Chit-chatting with Doyoung, Yuta is coming to find, is damned hard when there are distractions present. Distractions like Dejun pulling apart and crushing pieces of the muffin instead of eating it. Throwing bits onto the floor on purpose and then screaming. Yuta manages to learn that Doyoung woke up this morning at 5:30 on his day off, that Doyoung doesn’t actually ever _get_ days off. That Doyoung drinks his coffee black unless he’s at a place like this where, in order to survive, he needs sugar. 

Guanheng wakes up halfway through a scintillating discussion between Yuta and Dejun over whether the crumbs still taste good after getting thrown on the floor and stomped on. 

“Ugh, already?” Doyoung sighs, pulling the disoriented baby from his stroller. He sniffs and makes a face. “And he pooped? Great. This place doesn’t even have a proper changing table.” 

Yuta offers to help but Doyoung waves him off. He grabs a diaper and a bag of wipes from the bag, asks Yuta if he can watch Dejun (“Sure, sure, I can!”) and disappears into the bathroom. 

For thirty whole seconds, Yuta and Dejun have a showdown. 

Yuta smiles. 

Dejun frowns. He eats another crumb. Picks up a giant piece of the second muffin Doyoung has been nibbling on. Holds it up to his mouth then, totally on purpose, throws it on the floor, eyes up to Yuta as if in defiance. 

But all of this isn't new to Yuta. He knows how to hold his ground. He drops his smile and stares the toddler down. Dejun matches his intensity. The bathroom door opens, and Yuta hears Doyoung sigh. Instantly, Yuta bends down, picks the muffin off the floor, sets it innocuously back on the table just as Dejun breaks into a grin. 

Yuta leans forward. “I won’t tell if you don’t.” He winks.

And of course, there’s no way Dejun knows and understands what exactly Yuta said. But no one, not even a two-year-old, can misinterpret a wink like that. By the time Doyoung crosses the floor with Guanheng, Yuta and Dejun are fast friends. And no, Yuta doesn’t exactly tell Doyoung where that muffin has been, but in his defense, the floor right there didn’t look _that_ dirty. And he’s sure these kids have eaten worse. 

  
  
  


The playground is indeed their actual, ultimate destination. Yuta takes in the sunshine, Doyoung’s shaded eyes as the relief sinks in that yes, Dejun is having fun playing somewhat by himself with another little three-year-old. Yuta is the one who growing stressed. Like a real beta gentleman bent on impressing an omega, he offered to strap himself into the baby sling. Guanheng is now back to front on Yuta’s chest with his little legs bouncing wherever Yuta goes. 

“You’re sure it’s alright? The straps are comfortable?”

Yuta nods quickly. If Doyoung tries _one more time_ to verify the straps under Yuta’s arms and back and the sides of his waist are fitting the right way, he’s going to have an aneurysm. There’s absolutely no reason a man needs to drape his fingers across Yuta’s torso that much! 

Yuta would pass it off as dad anxiety, but Doyoung surely didn’t look stressed out. And he had a grin on his face the whole time. Yuta retaliates by glaring at some weird look alpha teenager on the other side of the park who seems to be there with his little brother. 

God, what’s even gotten into him? A teenager? As competition? Just because the guy smirked a couple of times at Yuta’s not obvious pain? 

“I think I’m getting the hang of it,” he tells Doyoung. At first, Guanheng wasn’t happy. But now that Yuta’s been doing a slow two-step up and down the sidewalk in the shade, it seems like the baby has put on a perpetual toothless grin. 

Doyoung smiles at him. Yuta might almost mistake it as a fond look. 

“He’s always happy once he gets settled in the sling.”

“You’re kidding me, right? I’m sure it’s all me. Just me.” When in doubt, bluff. 

The sound of Doyoung’s laugh is infectious. And Yuta has to admit, this may just be the happiest Saturday afternoon he’s ever spent. The weather is amazing, he’s not spending it holed up in his apartment, alone. Doyoung looks relaxed the longer they’re together. Is it because of Yuta? Or because Yuta is just here helping him with the kids. There are questions he desperately wants answers for, but he’s not ready to ask them. 

Instead, he goes with Plan B. 

“Hey, are you guys busy tomorrow?”

“Busy? On a Sunday. Not really. I mean, me and the boys usually sleep in until six in the morning instead of five-thirty. Then I make food which Dejun refuses to eat. If I get desperate we hang out at my mom’s while I pretend to nap on the couch and Dejun jumps on my stomach and-” He stops, enjoying the look of horror on Yuta’s face. “I mean, no we’re not busy. What about you?”

Yuta clears his throat. Instead of speaking first though, he looks away. Guanheng is gurgling happily, his little hand wrapped around Yuta’s thumb while he tries to figure out how to eat it. 

“I just… thought.”

“Yes?” Doyoung prods him. 

Yuta sneaks a peek at the man next to him. Then he has to divert his attention back to Dejun who is contemplating whether or not he can climb back _up_ the slide. Anything is better than getting caught staring at Doyoung’s profile. The slope of his nose. The fall of his hair across his forehead, caught up in the wind and somewhat ruffled. 

“I mean, if you’re just trying to kill some time why not… whynotcomeovertomyhouse?” he says, slurring the whole last half of his sentence.

Yuta slaps himself mentally after making the offer. Especially when Doyoung doesn’t immediately reply. The omega crosses his arms and his lips pull up into a little frown. 

“If… I’m just trying to kill some time? Why would I do that?”

“Oh, of course you don’t have to come over. I didn’t mean to imply all you ever do is kill time! I just, I could make you coffee. My neighbor has a new puppy I could steal- I mean, borrow! It doesn’t have to be fancy! It’s not a date, I mean. Just…”

“A home visit?” Doyoung suggests.

Yuta gulps. He doesn’t even know what that means. “Maaaaybe?”

Is ‘home visit’ some old term omegas used that Yuta has forgotten about? An inspection ahead of their official change of residence? It’s possible. It’s also possible Doyoung is just messing with him. 

“I bought a new floor rug online last week.”

Yuta wants to die a little. Is that even relevant? Doyoung doesn’t care about whether he got a new floor rug!

“Oh yeah? I need a new one. Where’d you buy it from?”

Never mind, maybe Doyoung does care. 

“Uhm. Walmart?”

“I should look it up. Mine’s disgusting probably. Guanheng isn’t quite as bad as Dejun was at that age, but the amount of baby spit-up and spilled soured milk it’s soaked up through the years is a little…” Doyoung makes a face. “You sure you want us to come over?” 

Yuta can hardly speak he’s so anxious about the sheer possibility of Doyoung sitting on his couch making himself at home. Of Dejun getting to sit on his knees eating a snack at Yuta’s table like he did in the coffee shop. Of Guanheng examining his toes and maybe puking in the middle of his brand new rug. 

“I really don’t mind,” he says, for once giving a cohesive unhesitant answer. It’s super, super important Doyoung knows that. “I think I’d like it actually.”

Doyoung gives a little nod, readjusting his crossed arms. He leans closer to Yuta to inspect Guanheng once more and gives the baby a poke on the nose. Guanheng giggles. 

“You like visiting new places, right baby? Don’t you? Oh yes, I know you do,” Doyoung speaks in baby talk. Yuta’s heart is racing. 

“I guess that’s settled then,” Doyoung finally confirms. 

Yuta’s grin is a little lopsided when he says, “Yeah, yeah ok.”

Then some giant middle schooler plows down the slide knocking Dejun off his feet and into the dirt and Yuta, sees red. 

“You little -!!!” He screeches in anger, already moving towards the kid as fast as he can jog without jostling Guanheng too hard. “Watch where you ffff- are going ! Didn’t you even see him?” He points to Dejun who is dusty and wide-eyed sitting on his butt and also five seconds away from a meltdown. “There are babies playing here! Go pick on someone your own size!”

“Unbelievable!” He tells Doyoung a few minutes later, who is sitting on a bench cradling a tear-streaked but now perfectly fine Dejun. 

“It happens. Hey, send me your address. What time tomorrow, I might still try to swing by my mom's place in the morning.”

  
  
  


Wednesday at noon, Yuta once again finds himself seated next to Doyoung in the cantina poking at his lunch and pretending he isn’t eagerly gobbling up every word Doyoung shares about some dramatic work email that was sent around his floor, like somehow from that he might glean some insight. How did Doyoung enjoy his visit the other day, has he told his coworkers about going to Yuta’s house. Does he like Yuta or ? 

“God, the look on Kun’s face when Taeyong just … hit Trash on that thing, right in front of him!” 

Sicheng is in stitches, Johnny is slapping his side. Yuta doesn’t even remember what the whole thing was about. All he knows is that occasionally Doyoung leans into his space like Yuta isn’t even there. Or like is there but it doesn’t bother the omega one bit to be elbow to elbow with a beta. But he must not mind. They’re already done the ‘home visit' after all. 

Taeyong, obviously trying to divert attention from whatever email faux paux sighs loudly and shoves his lunch tray away. “Give me a break, huh? I don’t have time for that kind of bs. I’m preheat, can’t a guy get some leeway for that?”

Doyoung snorts. “We would, except you pull that card waaay too often for someone who makes otherwise completely sober decisions.”

Taeyong scoffs, his hand to his chest. “Doyoung! Omega loyalty!”

When Doyoung doesn’t say anything but to laugh, Taeyong glares at everyone else. Sicheng just shrugs. Jaehyun is giggling behind the back of his hand. 

Johnny puts his arm around Kun and says, “Hey, man, don’t look at us.” He taps his temples with the other hand. “Alphas too smart to get involved with a topic like this.” 

“Guess that just leaves the betas,” says Taeyong with a huff. Thankfully, he doesn’t press it. Yuta internally sighs. This is yet another one of those conversations he has no experience with and wouldn’t dare to interfere in. 

But Taeyong still won’t leave Doyoung alone. “Come on, you gotta know what I’m talking about?”

“Who me? My heats have never been bad. You know that. And anyway, I have two kids.”

“Does that actually affect things?” asks Ten.

Doyoung nods. “Obviously. What kind of bad biology would make a parent take a two-day hiatus every other month when there are kids to take care of. Anyway, I’m relieved.” 

Kun hums. “That is kind of interesting. I didn’t think of that.” 

Taeyong is still glum. “Guess that means I should have some kids then.” Looking around, he asks, “Any takers? Anyone? Yuta, come on. How about it. You know you want kids. Isn’t that why you’ve been practicing with Doyoung’s, right?” 

All of a sudden, Yuta’s gums feel like they’re completely dried out. His eyes fixate on Taeyong in horror. Doyoung’s body next to him has become entirely still. 

Somebody laughs, but someone else must have kicked him because it shuts off immediately. 

“I… what?” 

But Taeyong doesn’t say more. Maybe he realized how dumb he was to say a thing like that. Or maybe he heard Yuta’s unspoken threats saying Taeyong would be a dead man to continue. 

Fortunately, Sicheng finds something to cover with and the conversation shifts again. Yuta finishes his lunch in silence and completely forgets he was going to ask Doyoung if he liked that third set of pictures Yuta sent the other day of Dejun rolling himself into a rug burrito in Yuta’s apartment. 

  
  


Doyoung stops Yuta in the parking garage later. 

“Doyoung, wait!”

For two seconds Yuta contemplates pretending he hasn't heard him. Then Doyoung’s hand comes down on his shoulder and, game over. 

“Oh, hey,” says Yuta lifelessly “What’s up?”

“You ran off too quickly. Was going to ask you something.”

 _Oh no,_ Yuta thinks. 

“Yeah? If it’s about-“

“I want to go out this Friday night. If, that’s okay with you? You don’t have any plans, right?”

Yuta’s heart sinks. “You… want me to babysit for you?”

Instantly, he knows he’s made another mistake. Doyoung’s eyes bug out, and he sighs like Yuta is unbelievable. 

“My mom can watch the boys. _I_ want to go out with _you,_ ” he enunciates very clearly. Then, turning nonchalant, “unless you know, you don’t want to go out with me, in that case—“

“No! No, I do!” Yuta almost shouts. He winces, hearing the echo of his voice reverberate around the garage.

Doyoung is smiling. “Really? That’s good. Want to pick me up? 6 o’clock. You and me. No kids?”

“I…. I think that sounds, really good.” 


	4. Chapter 4

Yuta can’t say he doesn’t like the press of his back against Doyoung’s front door. Or the soft touch of Doyoung’s lips against his. Though, he does wish in hindsight that it had lasted longer.

Doyoung clearly knows what he’s doing, pulling off before Yuta is left completely tongue-tied. 

“Well that was fun,” he says, already swishing away into his living room while stripping off his outer sweater. He plops down on the couch and Yuta is still thinking about their mouths pushed together. 

“Heh heh, yeah. I’m glad you liked the movie.”

“And dinner!” Doyoung sighs, reclining in a state of utter contentment, a hand resting on his stomach like he’s still fit to burst. It’s been at least three hours since dinner, and there’s absolutely to see now. Yuta does imagine what Doyoung must have looked like pregnant. Was he tired, did he do the pregnant shuffle. Doyoung’s mentioned numerous times how much he’s _done_ with the having kids part of life. Yuta doesn’t blame him. One evening off the clock being a parent and Doyoung’s face is pure joy. 

Doyoung pats the couch beside him. “Come sit?”

“Mmm, yeah.”

Tonight concludes what is arguably their _fourth_ date. Maybe three if you’re not counting the times Yuta met up with Doyoung somewhere with the boys. Tonight has been all them, kids safely tucked away at their grandma’s house. Yuta misses them. But he also likes spending time with Doyoung, knows the single father enjoys an evening without responsibility. 

Yuta winces as he sits down, locating the remote beneath his butt, halfway wedged into the back of the couch cushions. Further back is a mess of crumbs and small toys, probably half a box of cheerios if he cared to pull out every piece of spilled snack and count them. 

“Tv?” he offers, passing Doyoung the remote. 

“Maybe. What do you think? I’m so tired already. Not sure my eyes can stay open much longer.”

“I could make you some tea,” Yuta suggests. 

“Tea?” Doyoung smiles wearily, happily. “That sounds good.”

Yuta is quite familiar with Doyoung’s kitchen by now. He locates a set of clean mugs behind a couple of definitely-not-clean mugs. A sippy cup goes flying and Yuta catches it before it hits the ground. He inspects it for cleanliness (not) and adds it to the pile of dirty dishes in the sink which consists of even more sippy cups, a few bottles with day-old milk congealing in the bottoms, and quite the assortment of plasticware and baby spoons. There’s the old itch to try to clean Doyoung’s kitchen for him, except the last time he tried to do that on a date night he was heavily scolded. _“Dishes are for the morning. Please, God, just leave them there.”_

Yuta finds some herbal tea bags above the sink, drops them into the cups, and only then remembers he needs to clear off the stove enough to set the kettle to bowl. Yuta’s house is so much cleaner, but sometimes he finds himself liking the familiar clutter of Doyoung’s house. Baby toys on the floor everywhere, random socks, and tiny shoes. He’s pretty sure he nearly sprained his ankle once tripping over a train. Dejun’s _favorite_ train, which fortunately came out of the encounter none the worse. 

“Water’s boiling,” he tells Doyoung, who jolts a little upon his return. “Sleepy? You should go to bed soon as you finish the tea, you know.”

Doyoung winces. “I should, but- oh shit, it’s Sunday, isn’t it?”

Yuta already knows what’s coming. “You’ve got all morning in the office to look over those documents. Treat yourself. Get some sleep.”

Yuta never sleeps over. Doesn’t think they’re quite to that stage of a relationship. After the second kid-free date Doyoung did offer to let him sleep in his bed. 

_“No sex though, please, I’m way too sleepy. It’d be damned right embarrassing for me,”_

It’s one of the things Yuta likes about him, how frank he is about matters of the body. Perhaps it’s the omega in him. Doyoung never had the luxury of ignoring his body the way Yuta, a beta, can. Doyoung had to spend the better part of his youth dealing with heats and unwanted urges. He’s had two kids to mess with his hormones. Yuta just occasionally jerks off when he feels in the mood. No insatiable desires. Not like alphas and their unfortunate need to rut. As for getting to do stuff with Doyoung, he’s fine with waiting. The most they’ve done is a little making out. And if anybody from the office asks about their official status, Yuta is mum. 

The water comes to a boil; Yuta sets the tea to brew while Doyoung dozes. 

“This is nice, don’t you think?” Doyoung murmurs when he finally sets the mugs before them. 

“Mmm, it is nice,” says Yuta.

“Liar. You’re bored as hell.”

“I am definitely not.” Yuta smiles. “Besides, what’s wrong with a little boredom anyway.”

“Well, that’s true,” Doyoung concedes, testing the tea with a tiny, little sip. “Thank you.”

The room is overtaken with silence. Just Yuta breathing lightly, Doyoung’s fingers tapping softly against the mug, ambient sounds from the great outdoors, muffled away from this domestic paradise. In the corner of the room, there’s a cascade of kid books falling from a wobbly old bookshelf. Yuta has personally organized them at least twice, but the result when he returns to Doyoung’s apartment is always the same. Yuta huffs but secretly loves imagining Dejun tossing book after book off the shelf in search of his favorite one. Yuta sitting on this very same couch with the toddler on his lap reading dramatically from some kid’s story about a tugboat. Guanheng laying on the floor by his feet chewing the corner of another book with his two whole teeth while Yuta pretends not to notice. Doyoung dozing in the armchair as if fast asleep, as if he doesn’t nap with one eye open. 

“Have you thought about going to the company picnic?” asks Doyoung, jarring Yuta from his memories. 

“Hm?” Thought about it? Thought about what. Why? “I’m… planning to go to it?” he says, wondering at the direction of Doyoung’s thoughts. 

“It’s supposed to be a family event. I can bring the boys.”

“Ahhh.” 

Yuta hums instead of replying. He supposes he and Yuta have been ‘together’ unofficially for more than a month, but nobody knows that outside of them, Doyoung’s mom, and Guanheng through his precocious little ways. (“ _Are you new daddy?” “Uhm, you have a perfectly nice daddy, already, you know?” “Two daddies?” “Uhmmmm.” )_

And some of the guys they work with may have an idea, but Doyoung is usually quite professional in front of Yuta. 

But then Doyoung says, “Let’s go together, huh?”

Yuta, just beams. “Ok, let’s.” 

  
  
  
  


It’s three weeks later, a beautiful Saturday afternoon. Doyoung stands in the shade of the large pavilion in a comfortable pair of dad shorts and a t-shirt. Ten stands beside him, somehow taking the word ‘picnic’ into meaning he should dress in tight black skinny jeans with more than a few rips across each thigh. At least nobody came in proper work attire. The annual company picnic is a let-loose kind of bonding experience. Around the regular old employees milling around are a few spouses, husbands and wives never before seen outside of their office frames, quite a few children, some girlfriends and boyfriends, some strangers only vaguely introduced as friends. A good and exponential amount of people Doyoung’s never seen before. Last year he was heavily pregnant with Guanheng and in no mood for socializing. 

This time, Doyoung scouts Guanheng’s crawling progress across the grassy lawn, Yuta hovering over him as only a first-time parent does, protecting him from the larger kids and stray footballs kicked from the other side of the lawn. Doyoung knows for a fact Yuta normally spends his downtime playing spontaneous football matches with friends. Heard him receive numerous offers to play right now. This time though he elected to steal a ball of his own and spent a good ten minutes trying to teach Dejun how to kick. 

The ball lays to the side now forgotten as Dejun stands in awe of the cartwheeling older kids. 

“So you and Yuta?” asks Ten not slyly at all. 

“Yes, me and Yuta. What of it?”

Doyoung crosses his arms. He came today fully prepared to answer everyone’s questions, impertinent or otherwise. 

“Well,” says Ten. “I may have heard your little two-year-old run up to him earlier and shout something that sounded very much like ‘daddy.’”

Doyoung hums. He’s seen it happen a few times before. “What did Yuta do?”

Ten laughs. “He turned beet red. Looked around like he’d just stolen a child and then pointed at you. ‘ _That’s_ your daddy _.’_ I believe is what he said.”

Doyoung nods in approval. “We’re taking it… slow enough.”

He can’t say it hasn’t crossed his mind. Stories of other single omegas whose kids grew far too attached to their parent’s new partner, only for the relationship to come to an early end. 

It’s probably already too late for Dejun and Guanheng, truth be told. Yuta better work out. Or else. (Doyoung thinks they’ll work out.) 

He and Yuta have had a few conversations about it. They’re on the same page about names and pet names and how Doyoung wants to raise his kids. Of course, that looks a lot different in practice. Kind of like now when Yuta sneaks up to Dejun to whisk him off his feet, delighted shrieks echoing high in the sky. There’s no keeping them away from each other now. And the whole office staff has apparently come to that same conclusion. 

“I think I’ll go get Guanheng now, will you excuse me,” He tells Ten. 

Sicheng and Johnny are standing around the BBQ grills as he walks by. Doyoung remembers when he first joined the company and the two alphas used to make him nervous. Now Sicheng looks up, smiles deep, glances over at Yuta parading Dejun around on his shoulders, looks back at Doyoung and smiles even more deeply. 

Taeyong is meandering toward the water coolers after scoring a hapless goal into a tree. 

“Doyoung!” he shouts, continuing to run on by. 

They’ve already talked about it. Taeyong is supportive, of course he’d be. Takes quite a lot of credit for that night when he brought Doyoung and Yuta together. 

Doyoung scoops up Guanheng, placing him on his shoulders so that when Yuta turns around their two kids are facing one another. There are more squeals and Yuta looks shocked. Then he smiles and Doyoung feels like one of those game show contestants being rained upon by thousands of dollars. 

“Hi!” he says. 

“Hi!” mimics Dejun. 

Guangheng’s greeting is more a of a delighted gurgle, but his affections are well known. 

“I was thinking about getting some food.”

“Mm, that sounds good,” says Yuta. “And Dejun here was just saying he wanted a cookie.”

“Cookies before dinner?” says Doyoung in dramatic disapproval. Dejun has the slow beginnings of a pout, one of those irresistible looks. But then Doyoung adds, “that sounds like a Great idea actually! Let’s go!”

Each of them takes off running, a kid still on each of their shoulders. Doyoung loses track of whose shout is whose; he and Yuta scream out just the same. 

They come to a standstill before the food tables and Yuta finally swings Dejun down to stand by his feet. 

“Whoo, you’re getting heavy, little guy,” he says.

“Hey,” Doyoung interrupts him. 

“What.”

Doyoung smiles, already chickening out. “Nothing. Never mind.”

Yuta’s eyebrows go up in inquiry. He doesn’t press him. They’re surrounded by so many people, most of whom aren’t paying them any attention whatsoever. Still. Doyoung really wanted to… 

“Wait. Come here.” 

Yuta looks quizzical again, but then Doyoung is leaning forward. He presses a small kiss right on Yuta’s lips. Not a long kiss, not short either. Somewhere in the middle. Somewhere perfect. Just like Yuta. 

He pulls back slowly, loving the look of bashful incredulity upon his face, his reddened cheeks. His eyes which are so open and wide and earnest and full of lots and lots of love. 

“Thank you for coming with us today.” 

  
  
  


End. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It has finished! 
> 
> Fun fact, while I was writing Yuta making tea I had a fever dream that I was making tea and I kept looking around waiting for the kettle to bowl when in fact, I had not made hot water, it was just Yuta. hahah. 
> 
> Liked this fic? Leave a comment, CC, find me on twitter, etc. Thank you all for sticking with this little project of mine. :)
> 
> [@shinealightrose](https://twitter.com/ShineALightRose)


	5. Bonus Scene

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uhmm.. Surprise!?

There are definitely some 'first moments' in life Yuta was born ready for. The first time he kicked a football, the great dance off at his high school social, acing his first semester of college and nearly flunking the second. On the whole, Yuta thinks he's done well for himself. He's a decent cook, if not incredible. He picks a damned fine rug for his living room, the right fit and color to tickle his aesthetic. He's even gotten the skill set to properly clean those disgusting, forgotten milk bottles that rolled under a couch never to been be seen for... a week.

Yuta was not apparently born ready when it comes to making cake.

Baby's First Birthday Cake.

"Doyoung! Doyoung, the color isn't coming out right!?" He half-shrieks over his shoulder.

Doyoung is on the phone with his brother, the only close family relative who couldn't be here today for Guanheng's first birthday celebration. "He's just a year old, what do you mean I need to be setting up a special account for his college funds- OH alright, alright, I will! But not today, let me live please-" Then, replying to Yuta's desperation. "Yuta, he's one year old. He won't ever know you wanted to make the frosting sea-green instead of thunderstorm blue, it's fiiine!"

Yuta begs to differ, but he supposes Doyoung might be right. He's spent all morning agonizing over the dumbest looking cake ever. Doyoung's mom is coming over later, and she'll definitely judge him if it looks stupid. Which it does. Maybe she won't judge him though, she's been pretty open and nice ever since they were first introduced.

Still! There will be pictures. 

"He's going to hate it. He won't eat it at all. He'll throw it on the ground," Yuta mutters to himself as he finally puts down the food coloring. His fingers are wrecked. Both the frosting and his skin has been dyed an ugly dark shade of 'thunderstorm blue' as Doyoung so _nicely_ put it. At least now his black nail polish isn't clashing so much with the baby blue streamers and yellow balloons flying over Doyoung's dining room table. 

"Maybe more green will help it?"

Before he can pick up the dye, Yuta feels a pair of arms wrap around his waist from the back. He jolts. "Shit, Doyoung, I almost dyed you and me both green."

Doyoung's chuckle can be felt through his chest. "Then we would have been green."

Omega pheromones permeate the air. Doyoung doesn't use them very often, not unless it's absolutely essential. Now, might be considered absolutely essential. Yuta quiets down and he doesn't dare look at the little vials of food coloring anymore. Who needs them when Doyoung is there nuzzling the side of his head to Yuta's cheek. 

"Thank you for making my baby his first birthday cake," he says quietly, appreciatively. Yuta wants to live in this moment forever. The apartment is quiet with Guanheng getting in his afternoon nap. Dejun has been with his grandma all morning so they could prepare for the party in relative peace.

"Thank you for letting me make it."

Doyoung kisses his cheek. Forget living forever, Yuta wants to melt to the floor and pass away. 

Then Doyoung backs away. "I'm going to get his birthday candle. Do you know where the lighter is?"

"Second drawer from the oven, right?"

Doyoung hums curiously. "Is that where I left it? Huh. I forgot."

And yeah, that's right. Yuta knows Doyoung's place now like the back of his thunderstorm-dyed hands. "I'll just... get this frosting on the cake then."

"Please do. Nobody likes a naked cake."

Guanheng's party isn't too large. The guests are comprised mostly of their co-workers, plus some neighbors who live on the same floor and a few extra kids around. Dejun hasn't realized the party isn't about him yet, he's too excited having friends over to play. Taeyong holds the phone Doyoung handed to him earlier with instructions to "capture everything!" 

Yuta is the one who gets Guanheng out of his crib. It's been so many months since the first time he got to hold him. Guanheng isn't so little now. He's longer, plumper, poutier; stronger as he squirms in Yuta's muscle-tested arms. His inquisitive sleep-filled eyes, however, light up in recognition as Yuta slips him into his arms, whispering, "Hush baby. It's just me. It's party time." 

Doyoung is watching him from the doorway, ready to escort their littlest boy to his first ever birthday. He smiles at Yuta, who couldn't be more in love. Not only with Doyoung but with the two little boys they've practically committed to raising together. 

"Ready?" he asks. 

Doyoung grins even more as he places his hand over Yuta's shoulder. He calls down the hallway, "Everyone ready out there? Here comes the birthday boy!" 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyway... 
> 
> [@shinealightrose](https://twitter.com/ShineALightRose)


End file.
